


The Narrow Gate

by ExistentialMalaises



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Smut, Catholic Guilt, Church Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings and suffering, Nothing super heavy but definitely immoral., Priest Kink, Slow Burn, priest!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExistentialMalaises/pseuds/ExistentialMalaises
Summary: Matthew 7:13“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the way that leads to life, and only a few find it.”In the wake of the events of the Battle of Washington, D.C., a tormented Bucky Barnes takes sanctuary with an unlikely ally: God. As he tries his hardest to accept the absolution that was given to him by walking on this new and virtuous road, he comes to realize that it was not God that he was searching for...





	1. Praying For Deliverance

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, my dearest reader. This fic was never supposed to happen, but here we are anyways. I want to thank one of my loveliest friends for always supporting me and stimulating my (depraved) mind. This story would definitely not exist without you. I am grateful to you for all your help.  
>   
> Fair warning: mature and unholy themes are handled. Read at your own risk. **Happy sinful reading, everyone.**

** _Matthew 18:18 "What things soever ye shall loose"_ **

 

Shifting her weight in her seat, [Y/N] tried to find a comfortable position on the church pew. Not that she had a lot of options when it came to finding comfort in this place of worship. With a quickening pace, trickles of raindrops spattered down the stained glass until the clear fluid percolated into the glistering crimson shades. It conjured up the image of shedding tears of blood through the broken slits of the window pane, and it made [Y/N] shudder. The humid rainfall was getting to her. She emitted a long and audible breath, unknowingly expressing her restlessness, and flipped through the pages of the Bible.

“Mhmm.” Her mother cleared her throat, reminding [Y/N] where she was right now. As if she could forget, the woody fragrant of burned smoke penetrated her nostrils, and she let out another long breath. She did not mind the scent. It was soothing in a way, reminding her of when she was younger, and saw a hopeful and happy community - if she closed her eyes, but when she opened them all she spotted were desperate men and women clinging onto something… something to believe in. She supposed she was not very different from all the other people. She came here after all, as her parents wished it, because her father had fallen terminally ill a couple of years ago, and somehow that had made them -her parents- devout believers. Really, she did not mind the incense, as long as it was not too intense. 

“Would you pay attention, [Y/N]? The new priest is here.” Her mother whispered and gestured to the pulpit where a young man was standing, readying himself to deliver his sermon. [Y/N] sighed and sat straighter on the church pew, pretending to give a damn, while her vision turned to the man.

She was a bit taken aback, and had to quickly guard the emotions that appeared on her face. The new priest looked nothing like she would have ever dared to imagine. Ever. His appearance was so unusual. Not only did he look young… he was also far too attractive and striking for a priest. He moved some papers in his hands, and she felt her throat growing drier when she silently took in his pulchritude. What was she thinking? His long chestnut-brown hair was tucked away behind his ears, parted at the side like those debonair heartthrobs from the Golden Age of cinema. She swallowed hard. It looked like she would not be nodding off at this Sunday service. 

“Welcome everyone. I’m Father Barnes, and today I would like to preach absolution. For all... ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ Romans 3:23. It is man’s condition to fall.” She heard him address the congregation while his blue eyes firmly roamed from left to right over each head, row after row, one by one. 

Her curiosity was more than piqued, and she glanced down his body, which also seemed to be out of the ordinary for a priest. Not that she had known many priests in her life, only two as a matter of fact, but she was pretty sure they were not supposed to look like him. [Y/N] unwittingly grazed her teeth over her bottom lip in admiration. His form was… hard and strong, and that was putting it mildly. 

“And when you do, He will pick you up. ‘And He Himself is the propitiation for our sins, and not for our only but also for the whole world.’ I John 2:2. No matter how violent the storm, no matter how black the darkness, you will never be alone when you’re walking through life together with Him.” Father Barnes continued.

Trying to regain some self-control at church of all places, she listened to his words and thought pensively. She did not have much to repent for. Though her life was hard, she was good. She moved back to this hellhole to take care of her father, even if that meant giving up her education and possible profession in the big city. She made that sacrifice. For the love of her family. She had been working hard for years now to pay for the stacking medical bills. Even if that meant she had little time left for herself. She was good and selfless. She always had been. 

Her appreciative gaze moved over his broad shoulders, to his soft pink lips that were still uttering profound words, back to his penetrating blue eyes. In that exact moment, their eyes connected, and his lips ceased moving. [Y/N] froze. Had he noticed where her gaze had gone to? Suddenly her heart began to pound in her chest. How dared she look at a priest in such a manner, she reproached herself while her heart thudded harder and harder until it became the only thing she could hear. It might have only been a second, but it felt like an eternity before he looked away from her and continued preaching.

“When you weather the storm, you will be rewarded with a golden sky. When you resist the darkness, you will find a guiding light. And He will release you. He will offer you absolution. The real question is, will _you_ accept God's pardon?” His stare returned to her when he asked that last question, and she could feel the shame returning to her cheeks. 

She could not have been more aware of the unwanted senses that were coursing through her body. There was no way that could she look him in the eye now, after he more than likely saw how inappropriate she had been. She had been so stupid. So embarrassing. [Y/N] was usually bored during Sunday service, always looking to leave as soon as possible, but she had never bolted out of there as blatantly as she did that day. What had come over her? What made her behave so ignominiously? She should not be looking at her priest like that. It was a dangerous path she was walking on, far off the straight and narrow, and she had to leave. Immediately.

 

——————————

 

It had been a couple of weeks now since he had started delivering sermons at the church. Priesthood came new to him, and he had been fortunate the parish priest took pity on him and offered him a stay within his church as a priest. It was unheard of, but then the parish priest described his lachrymose confessions and reemerging memories about his past as unprecedented and harrowing. The parish priest showed him a great kindness then, even if it went against what he had signed up for with the church. He had quoted the Bible, like the parish priest often did, to explain his reasoning: ‘For judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment, son.’ And it had shut Bucky up. It had shut him off. He was granted leniency by this compassionate man who did not judge him, and he would take it. By God, he took it. 

The members of the congregation huddled together after the Sunday service and shared various assortments of viands and beverages, and spoke with light-hearted attitudes. He stood next to the refreshment table, shying away from the crowds, as he observed the people. With this job, the parish priest had given him something to hold on to. Bucky found a purpose again, and he really tried to allow God’s love back into his heart like he once had a long time ago, but the cross he had to bear today was heavy… and he did not feel worthy of His love. But Bucky would try to believe… in himself. He would try to have faith, the way the parish priest had faith in him.

Bucky nodded and offered a small smile at the men and women who came to the refreshment table for more nourishment, and even partook in some small-talk with them. It was his role now. And as heblessed and said goodbye to the old man Jefferson, he noticed an older woman walking up to him. Behind her was a younger woman, who tried to hide behind the older woman’s figure while she ungainly followed her towards the table… towards him, it seemed. It was the woman from his first sermon… with the pretty blue dress on… and with the wandering eyes. He smiled when the older woman introduced her to him as her daughter. 

“Yes, I remember.” Father Barnes said to her mother, then turned his attention to her, and offered her his ungloved hand. She took it. “Your mother told me you were unable to attend these last couple of gatherings after the services, because you were taking care of your sick father.” She shook his hand while he stared her down. He had a strong handshake, and she wondered whether her palms were sweaty. Weeks had passed, and she still felt embarrassed.

She evaded his gaze, “Yeah…, that’s what I was doing.” She lied. Why did her mother come up with bullshit excuses? Not that she would have ever told him the truth about this. She would confess the truth later. To the old and _unattractive_ parish priest. Not him. Definitely not him. 

“I think that’s very commendable,” He smiled at her. “You’re a good soul. I can tell.” 

“Really? You can _just_ tell?” 

He laughed. That was unexpected. The parish priest would have given her a stern look. The laugh was comforting to her ears, and she felt herself flush. “From the way your mother has been going on about you -something I have no problem with Mrs. [Y/L/N/]. You clearly raised a wonderful daughter- I feel like I already know you.” He spoke to both mother and daughter, and she nodded her head. She noticed the warmth that was creeping back into her body, crawling up to her chest, and she wanted to go. This was too much. 

“Thank you, Father Barnes.” 

“I’ll see you next week, [Y/N].” Her name rolled off his soft lips unhurriedly, and it was really time for her leave again. She was _not_ supposed to think of her priest in such an ungodly manner, no matter how good he looked to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed the chapter/story, please let me know what you think! I'd love to read your thoughts.  
> Next chapter will be up soon! In the meantime, find me on [Tumblr](https://existentialmalaises.tumblr.com/).  
>  **Thank you :)**


	2. Walk The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Y/N] is experiencing sinful feelings for her priest when she knows that she should not. Yet fate keeps bringing them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fate... or me. Enjoy the read.

** _Matthew 5:33 “Again, you have heard that it was said to the ancients, ‘Do not break your oath, but fulfill your vows to the Lord.’”_ **

 

Sunday mornings weren't hard for her anymore. Waking up wasn't as difficult. She found herself wearing her prettiest dresses. Her stomach fluttered when she entered the church. She was actually excited. She knew it was wrong, but she could not help it. She had wondered many times why could she not be like the other women and not develop sexual feelings for the priest. She looked around the congregation, and observed how the other women were admiring Father Barnes as he delivered his sermon… and she realized she was just like the other women. She sighed. God was testing her. That must be it. But who or what was she fighting for? Her dad? Morality? Had she not been mostly virtuous all her life… was she still not being good right now? She gave and she gave. She never hurt anyone. When would she be allowed to take? She glanced back at him. He stood behind the pulpit, so firm and capable, and she could feel her body sinning when her eyes roamed over his vigorous chest. It rose and fell gently. She clasped her legs together. She should stop sinning. She could not drag Father Barnes down with her. 

So she continued to avoid him as much as was possible without being conspicuous, but it seemed that fate sometimes had other plans. 

“Father Barnes…” [Y/N] walked into the diner, noticed him… and for some reason decided to disturb the man when he was eating in peace. She had no boundaries. She had no common sense. She should just order her food and be on her way.

He wiped his face with his napkin quickly, “[Y/N]. Hello.”

“I wasn’t expecting you here.” Frozen on the spot, unsure if she should just walk away or not, she chastised herself in her mind. Why was that stupid mouth of hers still talking? She should not be trying to make smalltalk with the priest. She should not be near him at all. 

“At the diner? I gotta eat.” His facial features formed into an amused expression, and she felt all the more stupid. This was exactly why she should not be making smalltalk. 

“No, of course. I-I’ll leave you to it.” She meant to continue walking, but his next few words stopped her. 

“You’re welcome to join. God knows I could use the company.” She smiled and nodded while she repressed the loudening thud of her heartbeat. “The parish priest is a good man, but he’s not much of a talker.” With hesitant moves, she sat in the booth, facing him. 

“Nor are you…” 

“I talk.” He raised his eyebrows. 

And she shook her head, “Hardly.”

“My job is to listen.” He put down the napkin next to his plate of pasta.

“You’re not on the job now.”

“I’m always on the job.” 

“Well, I’m not confessing or seeking council, so… you’re free to talk.” She tilted her head, and waited for him to do so.

He grinned, “Right… I don’t know what to say.”

“So much for the talking.” She smiled at him, and he laughed while he shook his head. “But please, eat. You were in the middle of eating. Don’t let me interrupt you.” He inclined his head, and took another bite of his meal. 

“Hey [Y/N].” The waitress walked up to the booth and looked from Father Barnes to [Y/N].

“Hey Jenny. How are the kids?” 

“Still kids, unfortunately.” Jenny said and [Y/N] snorted, then caught Father Barnes’ inquisitive glance and her eyes grew bigger. Was that rude? “What are ya having?” Jenny eyed him too. 

“Just some fries. This heat is killing me.”

“Cheese sauce on the side?” Jenny grabbed her notepad.

“God, yes.” She sighed, and Father Barnes cleared his throat. “Sorry.” She muttered. He grinned at her, and she was starting to burn up. “You know what, lots of Sprite. A lot. Ice cubes. Even more.”

“You got it.” Jenny scribbled down the order and walked away. 

“Just fries doesn’t seem like a nutritious meal?” Father Barnes commented. 

“I’ll get my vitamins once it’s dark. I can’t eat a lot in this heat.” She looked at his pasta and tapped with her fingers on the table. 

“But fries?” She saw his eyes glance down to her fingers, so she stopped her tapping. 

She cleared her throat and sat straighter in her seat, “I can always eat fries. Don’t judge me, Father.”

He chuckled again, “I’m not. I wouldn’t.”

Turning the attention away from her, she focused on him once more. “So since you’re so much of a talker, I’ve been wondering. As an outsider, how’s village life treating you so far?”

He put down his fork again, “It’s been good. It’s what I need.”

“What is it exactly that you need that a small town offers?”

“The quiet.” 

“To calm your mind?” He looked up at her, his eyes were big and questioning, like she had read his thoughts. “I need the noise for that. Some noise.” 

“You’re not getting that here?”

“No, my life’s too… slow. Stagnant. Every day is the same. Oh, thanks, Jenny.” Jenny placed a big glass of Sprite on the table, and [Y/N] gulped it down.

“You have a purpose.” He was watching her. 

Another swallow, “I have commitments.” 

“Where do you think you can get… the noise you seek?” 

“I don’t know, Father.” She knew. “Lately my mind’s been loud.” 

“And has it calmed you?”

She shook her head, “The opposite.” 

“You know you can come talk to me whenever you need to, [Y/N].” He gave her a kind smile, and she blew out some air she did not know she had been holding in.

“How did this turn into a counseling session?” She laughed, feeling embarrassed. It was becoming a constant when she was near him. She should just accept it.

“Told you, I’m always on the job.” His smile widened, and he took another bite of his now cold pasta. 

Sharing a meal together had been pleasant. He was fascinated by the way her mind worked. Fascinated since he caught her eye on his first day, and she had been so distant. Perhaps that was a good thing. Sharing a meal together today proved that it was not a common occurrence for a priest, especially not if he paid attention to the glances they received from onlookers. Perhaps distance was good. 

Though Bucky had invited her to, [Y/N] did not visit him often for confession after that day. It was notthat hard for him to put two and two together as to _why_ she did not. She was nervous around him, and not for the reason people used to be nervous around him. The kinda justified nervousness, because they knew they would end up being six feet under. He preferred her kind of nervousness. 

But he was still her priest, so Bucky was both glad and sad that she did not seek him for confession often. Glad, because seeing her... it made his torment to learn more about her greater. And he had enough torment in his life already. He seemed to want to hear her delicate whispers, and the thoughts that occupied her mind… and she had a lot of those. It sounded like she did not have many friends with whom she could really talk. So, she confessed. And he listened. 

He was sad that she did not visit him more often, because the more he did learn about her, the more he wanted to keep on learning… but he had to listen. He could not ask for too much, not in any department, but had to let his mind be quiet and let her disclose whatever she felt comfortable with. They were always minor sins. A lie she had told. An unkind thought she had about someone. The resentment she felt towards her parents, the guilt she felt for being resentful. In a way, it helped that he could comfort her, that he somehow offered her peace of mind by taking on her worries and her sins, that he could absolve her of those. It made his priesthood more meaningful.


	3. A Broken Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Barnes and [Y/N] have a tendency to let tension build, to leave words unspoken, and to harbor unresolved feelings.

** _Matthew 26:41 “Watch and pray so that you will not enter into temptation. For the spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”_ **

 

The ventilator in her small office was giving [Y/N] a headache. The way that thing droned on endlessly, moving from side to side, and barely provided her with any cold comfort in this scorching heat, made her uneventful work life at the local school even more unbearable. She supposed she should be happy. Her former favorite teacher, Mrs. Pratt, had recommended her for this job. What else was there for her without a proper college degree? Waitressing? In this heat? Now _that_ would have been unbearable. [Y/N] put her hair up in a messy bun, walked to the teacher’s lounge and grabbed her small lunch box from the refrigerator, and walked outside. Hopefully there would be a bit of a cooling wind out in the shades. 

“Father Barnes? What are you doing here?” She asked after she closed the door, and walked towards him in the schoolyard. He looked handsome as ever, always clad in his dark clothes, even in this heat, and the clerical collar never let her forget how off-limits he was. 

“Oh, [Y/N].” His eyes lighted up, and so did hers. She had become more comfortable around him as time had passed by, but only slightly. She learned how to mostly deal with her unwanted desires. Mostly. “Right, you work here. You’re a… uhh, you’re a counselor for the children, right?” She nodded. He had remembered. She could feel the warmth taking hold of her heart. “I was just talking over the details for next week’s congregation. For the kids.” 

“Hm, the meeting is next week already?” 

He inclined his head and asked gently, “Will you be there?” 

“Well, if it’s for the kids… I ought to help, being the counselor and all.” She really should not. 

“Excellent, I’ll write down your name.” Did she… did she just get tricked into charity work? He smiled and crossed his hands in front of his waist, and she looked down at his arms. 

“Say, Father Barnes. Forgive my curiosity… but how come you’re always wearing _one_ glove. It’s been hell raising hot this summer, and you’re never not wearing one glove.” 

“Ah. You’re very…”

“Hawk-eyed?”

“I was going to say observant, but yes.” 

His tone of voice was so serious. She thought he was less sober than the parish priest. He had laughed at her jokes before… unless she was prying. “My mom calls it that. She can never hide anything from me.” 

“Nor can I, apparently.”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s asked…, am I?” She grinned, and silently prayed to herself that she was not prying, but never dropped the subject.

“You are.”

“ _Oh_ … I’m truly sorry, Father. I really didn’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s alright, [Y/N]. I can’t expect honesty, if I don’t give it in return.” Father Barnes offered a pained smile, and she noticed a sadness that lurked behind his bright blue eyes. It made her feel even shittier about her stupid question. Knowledge certainly wasn’t power, by any means. It was embarrassment. She kept doing this, embarrassing herself in front of him. Sir Francis Bacon should have kept that shit to himself. “It’s, uhh, my arm…” He slowly removed the glove. “... It’s a prosthetic.” 

“Oh.” The silver plates glistened in the sun when he moved his hand for her to look at. “I shouldn’t have made you show me. I was inconsiderate.” 

“It’s really alright. I’m used to it by now. I just don’t show it, because others might not be.” He observed her wide eyes. “Are you?” 

“Am I what?”

“… Afraid?” 

The question perturbed her. Why in the world would she ever be afraid of his prosthetic arm? Because he did not have his flesh arm anymore? Because the prosthetic looked nothing like… what she thought one would? Why? She shook her head fervently, hoping to ease his worries. She wanted to be able to do that for him. “No. I’m not. I’m really not.” She smiled up at him. “Your hand… it’s fascinating, actually. Could I… Could I see more?” 

Father Barnes nodded and pulled up his sleeve so his underarm was revealed. Her eyes fluttered down to his arm, and her fingers lingered above his hand, hesitating only for a second… wondering whether she really should be touching her priest, before she slid her fingers over the cold metal. He felt more comfortable than she had thought. It was a kind of coldness she had been longing for, and it made her wonder how his other hand would feel. Would his warmth be as comforting? Or would it be maddening? She hoped it was the latter. 

“How?” She barely uttered the word.

“The war.”

“Of course.” She nodded. Of course, he was not just a good man, he was also a good soldier. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” She whispered, and as her fingers moved up his arm she allowed his cold to spread to her hand too. 

He swallowed deeply. The view of her touch put him on edge, “Guess you could say it’s a one-of-a-kind.” 

His blades moved again, and that snapped her out of her inquisitive state. She let go of him. “You are.” Father Barnes stared quietly into her eyes, his mouth opening inadvertently in the process, and the beat of her heart started to thud loudly again. 

Bucky caught the flutter of her lashes down to… to where his eyes were not, and he instantly responded by licking his lips and clearing his throat. “My business is done here for now. I should head back to the parish. Plenty to do there.”

“You priests lead busy lives.” A tight knot was forming in her stomach, but she managed to get the words out. He chuckled, and wished her a good day. But that was no longer possible. He had distracted her mind. Again. With his kindness. With his honesty. With his gaze. With his lips… How was she ever going to quiet that mind of hers? 

 

——————————

 

The gathering for the kids, the one she so selflessly signed up for, came around soon enough. She showed up on time, dressed in a delicate white blouse and a flowing burgundy skirt. So, she overdressed. It was church. People always overdressed for church. It meant nothing. Not until the moment he laid his eyes on her. He was conversing with another woman who had probably signed up all selflessly too when she knocked on the door and walked into his office. His words faltered instantly, and he forgot about himself, letting his eyes travel all the way down to her exposed legs. Then he quickly recovered, and wished her welcome. She felt his welcome. It meant the world to her.

“Ok, thank you, Rosemary.” The woman smiled at Father Barnes and left his office, leaving the door ajar. “[Y/N], please. Come.” He waved her towards him. She walked behind his desk and stood next to him, where -apparently- Rosemary had been standing before her, and looked at him expectantly. “Here’s the activity list.” He pointed to the papers on his desk. “It’s really a first-come first-served scheduling, so you’re in luck. Still plenty to pick from.” 

She leaned down to get a closer look, her body bending slightly, and she wondered what he would be doing.

Bucky noticed the nearness of her body, and he tried his hardest to keep his impure thoughts at bay, and not behave unseemly. “I, uhh… I’ll be getting my hands dirty, helping the kids harvest wheats.” He answered her question. 

He could see her eyes widen as she blushed. Had his answer been inappropriate? “O-ok. I should probably not get any dirt on my clothing.” She murmured, and her eyes remained on his desk. 

“I reckon that’s a wise idea.” He allowed himself to look at her once more. She brought up the clothing. That made it somehow ok? He was inclined to agree. His vision wandered from the naked nape of her neck, to the arch of her back that became apparent in her tight-fitting ensemble, down to the tension in her ankles that was straining because of the high heels she was wearing.

Still averting her gaze, he noticed the smile that lingered on her lips and how the hot flush that had developed on her cheeks spread down her neck, to her collarbones, to where he could no longer see. The flush was noticeable… and he was too observant. He looked away quickly, down at his shoes. He was out of line. She must be aware of where his eyes were going, to everywhere indecent. She stood up straight again, now only inches away from him, and he took a deep breath to control his breathing. He could not let his heart get the best of him. She swallowed, and he noticed the pulse in her neck. Glancing up, her lips parted slightly, and then their eyes connected. Had [Y/N] any idea what she was doing to him?

“Y-you can find me after, if you wish to talk.” He noticed her lips again. She was chewing on them. And it drew him in. The action pulled his body closer towards her. He probably did not even move, but he still felt that potent pull. It was unlike anything he had felt before. 

She nodded thoughtfully and breathed out, “I’d like that.”

“If it remains this hot, you’ll find me in the gardens.” He fluttered his eyes closed. He had to stop looking at her now reddened lips. He wanted to be the one who was biting them, reddening them. And that soft voice. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t why he escaped from his old life… and sought some kind of salvation from God, as undeserving as he was. He was going to do his best to live up to the parish priest’ expectations. And this was _not_ the way. “P-please pick your activity. Just sign your name behind it.” He rushed away from her and left his office. 

“Ok.” She whispered after he left.


	4. Flame Of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close to combustion, [Y/N] finds a new way to extinguish her fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying a new thing here (smut-wise). If possible, I'd love your thoughts on the thing. You'll know what the thing is.

** _Isaiah 47:14 "Behold, they have become like stubble, Fire burns them; They cannot deliver themselves from the power of the flame; There will be no coal to warm by Nor a fire to sit before!”_ **

 

A new week. A new sermon. _Temptation_. Was it a message for her, or one to himself? In truth, he was not certain of anything at this point. The implication remained the same. Temptation must not overtake them. Bucky turned his head to her row, and his gaze slowly moved passed the faces of his congregation, until he could look at her for a second, and a second longer, while he preached his memorized words. [Y/N] chewed her lip when their eyes met. It was a nervous habit he had seen her do… a lot. It did not ease his mind. Just like when she fidgeted with her clothes, and the fabric would move around her figure. It took all the strength he had not to look down at where the fabric would curve and tighten. But those images still took a powerful hold of him. The way Bucky gave into his desires, beating those feelings out of him when he was alone and surrounded by the darkness, after he could not cleanse himself of those inspiriting images. Temptation giving birth to sin, for the flesh was weak. Bucky avoided his gaze. His heart was fragile and contrite, because had he been a better man, he would not be this shameless with her. 

After the service, they stood side by side, in front of the refreshment table, subtly admiring each other from the corner of their eyes. The air was so frangible, [Y/N] dared not say a word. When their eyes synched, Father Barnes gave her a small nod and she offered a hint of a smile in return. The flutter of her heart was working in overdrive again. She should not be standing next to him, because of how she responded to him. She knew better than that. [Y/N] was so close that she was sure she could feel his body heat. What else was making her so hot? He was emanating a powerful and ravenous air that was curling around her figure, coating her limbs with sensual destitution. 

Focusing her mind, she reached for the tiny, vegetarian sandwich when his hand bumped into hers, the back of their hands gliding slowly before he retracted his. She could sense the deluge of desire that surged up to her heart, and took hold of her mind. Again. She looked down at the table and attempted to silence that unwanted and unquenching appetite.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was a hoarse murmur. She did not reply, she did not even move, she was too overwhelmed by the throbbing ache in her underbelly. His husky words only aggravated her current state, and with every slow breath she inhaled, that ache spread lower… and lower, becoming more and more unbearable. Father Barnes’ hand return to the table to grab a drink, and she examined his long thin fingers as very vivid visuals coursed through her mind, of what those long and thin fingers could do to her. God, she needed a release. Without a word, she walked away from the refreshment table. 

Bucky watched her walk away. She was trying so hard to follow the rules according to the Book, but really… He was already in awe of how much she tolerated, how she provided and cared for those she loved. Her father. Her mother. For God. If only he could do it as well as she could. If only he could feel her love too. Her confessions had made him realize his own weaknesses, and he wanted to do better. He wanted to be better. But why did God send down temptation to him in the form of such a good and engaging woman? It could have been anything else, and he might not have been so conflicted. Why was it that he felt obligated to the parish priest, and in extension to God, but she was the one who inspired him? And how was he supposed to be better, when his biggest temptation was the guiding light in his darkest times, and not God? Was this the work of the devil? 

For weeks [Y/N] tried not to give in. She knew it was wrong. She knew this. And it was becoming harder for her not to stare… not to glance over to make sure that he was looking at her, admiring her. She lived for those stolen glances, those unspoken assurances, that said she was not alone in this. It made her stomach knot and her skin prickle. He must feel it too. Why else would he look at her with such intent? What else could it mean… _if not a kind of devotion_? 

The worst of it all were not the stolen glances, but that she wanted more. She craved more. And each week, that need became harder to ignore, especially when he caught her eyes. Every... Damn... Time... Did he not look elsewhere? Surely he was more inconspicuous. Surely he knew that even their briefest looks were wrong. For weeks she let that devious sensation slither around in her body like a pernicious snake, slowly tightening around her, slowly devouring her, but she kept willing it away as much as she could. But now, she could no longer contain herself. 

She walked to the public restroom in the house of worship, and locked herself in. She rested her body against the door, emitted a long and deep breath, and pulled up the hem of her white dress. She let him complicate her, whether they willingly played a part in it or not. Her nails grazed over her underwear, over her nub, and it left a trail of burning tingles in its wake. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as she leaned back against the door, closed her eyes and opened up her mind, so she could give her body what it had longed for. It only took seconds before she felt her moisture seeping through the fabric. She had been on edge for so long. His long and intense stares… His rough voice… She whimpered. The darkness that lurked behind his bright eyes; how she wanted him to show her his darkness. How she wanted him to complicate her further. Sliding her hand inside her underwear, she began to spread the proof of her arousal for him all over her clit, steadily building pressure. She was already swollen. She was already needy. 

The touch below was soothing at first, and her other hand roamed over her breast. She kneaded it softly, taking in how good she was finally feeling because of him. She imagined how his long fingers, perhaps his powerful cold ones, would skim its coldness over her nipples, hardening them in an instant and taking hold of them with his soft mouth. Sucking. Nibbling. She moved harder against her nub and bit her lip. That nagging sensation at her entrance, that ache to be filled, it had taken on a life of its own. It had continuously interfered with her day-to-day activities, not allowing any rational thought, only unadulterated need… the need to be touched, the need to be absolved… by him. 

She pushed her moistened fingers inside of her, and she sucked in the air. She curled her fingers and caressed herself at an entrancing rhythm while the palm of her hand kept pressing against her clitoris.The touch no longer felt soothing, but had become maddening with each quickening rub. Soon enough, she was arching her back as a tantalizing sensation resided in her legs. She threw her head back against the door in blissful agony while she worked on her release, allowing the rapture in her groin to accumulate and intensify. She thrusted her fingers inside of herself faster, trying to fill herself, trying to quench her hunger, imagining it was him she was feeling. Him who would hold onto her while he made her spill his name from her lips. Father Barnes. James. Whispering in her ear how he would deliver her from that sweet torment. 

She bucked harder against her hand, her cheeks hitting the bathroom door faintly in the process. She was panting as she reached her climax. Her lips parted, and raspy breaths escaped as she tried her hardest to swallow down her moans. Her stomach squeezed together and the sweetest sin rushed from her groin up to her heart. It emptied her mind, and made her curl her toes. That kind of fire, after she finally allowed it to electrify her entire being, it fizzled out slowly until there was nothing left, just the quiet and scorched residue that washed over her. And she learned how good it felt to burn.


	5. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to resolve those feelings. There are a few things that [Y/N] needs to get off her chest.

** _Proverbs 10:19 “When there are many words, transgression is unavoidable, But he who restrains his lips is wise.”_ **

 

The hot spell still had not abated in this hellhole, and it was starting to get to [Y/N]. The last couple of days rainstorms had started brewing, raising the humidity and covering the sizzling sky with darkened and thundering clouds. As if it had not been enough that her sins were becoming graver and graver, and she kept repeating the same offenses. There was also that damn weather that made life even more unendurable for her. And so, on a blustery day, she made a tempestuous decision. It was time. She needed to confess. She needed deliverance, one way or another, she was going to get it. After she entered the confessional booth, uncertainty took hold of her again, and she wondered whether she should sit down on her knees and hide her face from Father Barnes, or reveal herself. She had to see it through now. She chose the latter. 

“Welcome.” Was all he said, and she quickly made the Sign of the Cross. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” She said softly. He remained quiet as he looked in front of him, only bearing the side of his face to her. “Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been threeweeks since my last confession.” Her voice faltered, and the booth became replete with silence. 

“Confess your sins.” He finally spoke again, and she heard the peal of thunder coming from outside the booth, from outside the church. She swallowed hard, her throat was already becoming drier. 

“I’ve been beside myself, Father. For weeks now, there’s been a man…” She examined his face, but his expression was still neutral. She had to do this. “A man who caught my attention. And I think I caught his...” She lingered, and his eyelashes fluttered to the ground. “The way that he gazes at me, Father. Even when he is speaking to a crowd, even without saying a word and from such a distance, it always feels like he’s directly talking to me… Whispering unspoken promises with just his eyes, Father.” Just the thought of her seated on the church pew, looking up at his solemn face and hearing his passionate voice, it sure made her feel spiritual. Starting to get hotter inside the clammy booth, she tried fixing her dress, but it was to no avail. He turned his head towards her slightly upon perceiving the noise. 

“God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted—”

“I _am_ tempted, Father. Every time he looks at me…” She cut him off and moved closer to the  latticed opening, closer to him. “Every time he comes near me, I feel this hunger inside. I feel this ache… below. I feel warm all over. And then, when I’m all by myself, Father, I’m struck with these thoughts.” She paused, and her fingers twirled around the fabric of her dress, raising the fabric slightly. “Thoughts of what kind of passion I would stir up in him, of what those eyes of his would do to me if he would have me all to himself, all alone… like _right now_ , for example.”

She heard him move his hands over his pants, and he looked at her. “H-He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”

A crashing sound of a thunderbolt reverberated through the booth, and she flushed with desire when their eyes met. Breathing out, she let go of her dress, trying to relax her body. Those intense blue orbs looked inside her soul, and she wanted to bear her all to him.  “I don’t know how I can endure it without sinning. Oh, Father, I’ve sinned so much these last couple of weeks. I don’t understand how this is possible. Why my need for him is so strong. Why I’m so weak. Every time I saw him, every time he came to my mind, I needed a release, Father.” She paused. He had leaned back and she no longer saw his face, just darkness. Was it working for him too? She wetted her dry lips. “The only thing that’s helped so far was imagining how he would feel as I... touched myself, Father. His fingers inside of me. His warm lips between my legs, kissing me slowly. His… cock pushing in deeper.” She emitted a long and audible breath, a low whimper slipping out. Talking about it with him had worked her up in a matter of seconds. She waited for some sort of response from him, but all she heard was the muted sound of a tumultuous cloudburst. “Father, are you still listening?”

Another silence.

“Father?”

He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. “I-I am.”

“Can I continue confessing, Father?”

“Yes.”

She brushed the locks of her hair out of the nape of her neck, wiping away the subtle perspiration that was building. Feeling more confident, she continued. “For days, I’ve been fixated on one thing in particular. I want it all, of course… but this one thing is clouding my mind, and I need to get it off my chest.” 

No reply, just the sound of him moving in his seat. 

“Every time he’s up there, Father, addressing his crowd, my gaze keeps lowering to his tight black pants that reveal his bulge. And I wonder, Father, how he would grow under my touch. I wonder how he would taste on my tongue… would he push my head down further wanting to feel more or would he gently caress my hair?” His breathing had become more audible. “I wonder if I make him cry out in pleasure, would he call for my name or God’s?” She bit her bottom lip. Would she really dare to take the next step? “What do you think, Father?”

He leaned forward and revealed his face, steadily studying her eyes, then his gaze lowered to her lips, then down to the naked skin her dress allowed. “I’m sorry?” He said with half-lidded eyes. Yes, she would dare to. She would now. 

She leaned closer to the partition again. His hands were fisted, and she understood. “What do you think… would _you_ call for my name or God’s? Could you bless me with an answer, Father.” She noticed the gulp, and a soft sigh escaped his lips. 

“I’m not sure what to say to—”

“We could find out…” She stood up and he looked at her intently. 

“I-I don’t think that’s a—”

She stepped outside of the compartment and looked around the church, searching for bystanders, but there was no one she could see. All she saw was the tremendous flash of lightening coruscating through the nave, followed by the thunderous wind screaming against the stained glass windows. [Y/N] quickly opened the door to Father Barnes’ compartment and stepped inside, “I would really like to find out. Wouldn’t you?” She closed the door. 

Startled and embarrassed by how far he’d let things go, he stood up, inadvertently bringing their bodies together in those close quarters. She could feel his erection pulsating against her hip, and he immediately sat down again, apologizing profusely. 

“Oh my… It might be me who ends up calling for His name.” She whispered, and began to kneel down before him, readying him for her worship. “I see my confession had a lasting effect on you.” She rubbed the palm of her hands over his thighs to his hardened bulge, and he closed his eyes, trying not to give in to the temptation in front of him. She squeezed with one hand, and with a gasp he opened his eyes and looked into hers. She smiled, “It affected me too.” Her other hand caressed her breast, then slithered down until it disappeared underneath her dress for some comfort. 

His eyes darkened, and his long lashes fluttered back to her lips while she unbuttoned and unzipped his tight pants. “This is sacrilegious.” Sucking in his breath, he pointed out the obvious when she got her hand on his cock, removed him from his boxer briefs, and devotedly stroked him up and down. “Hmm…” He let out a little moan. Each time [Y/N] reached the top, she tightened her grip around the head and gave him a little squeeze. His soft inhales whenever she did just that kept encouraging her on. 

She licked her upper lip, then sucked on her bottom lip while he silently stared at her, the uncertainty still showing in his eyes, even with her hand around his cock. Loosening her hold on him, she leaned down and passed her velvet tongue over the base of his cock up to the tip where she tasted his fluids. Strong and salty. “ _Ahhh_.” He sighed with relief, and leaned his head back against the wood. 

“I’ll stop if you want me to.” She palmed him again, and looked at his face. 

“ _Don’t_ …” He choked out, his eyes still closed, and her heart sank. “Don’t stop.”

“That’s what I thought.” Her eyes shone with triumph, and she placed appreciative kisses all over the head of his cock, before she slowly eased him into her warm mouth, her tongue twirling around him. Father Barnes sucked in his breath, and she could hear the resounding rainfall that pitter-pattered on theroof of the church change into a raging torrent of water. Father Barnes’ hands clenched and unclenched as [Y/N] began to build a stable pattern to take him in deeper and deeper. “Hmm.” She murmured when she could not take him in any further, then hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

“ _Jesus_.” He panted, and one of his hands cupped and squeezed her breast. 

He was letting himself go and it pleased her. This was exactly what she wanted, what she had wondered about. She moved back up to focus on the tip, but his ungloved fingers interweaved in her locks, and he pushed her head down again. She whimpered at the sudden movement. “Ahh, _fuck_. Stay there.” He guided her mouth up, then down deeper and she took all of him in. “ _Uhhh_.” He groaned, letting his head fall back again. “That’s good, [Y/N].” He encouraged her as he slackened his grasp, but kept brushing his fingers through her hair slowly. “You’re doing good.” She moved faster, tautening her lips around his cock, sucking harder while breathing became more restricted. “Ahh, like that. _Hmm_ , you’re amazing... I’m close.” Her mouth had started to hurt, and the sloppy noises became louder, but she gave it her all. 

Bucky tried to steady his breathing with deep inhalations. The damp air was thick with his scent, and it only brought him closer to his edge. With her lips wrapped tightly around his cock, she bobbed her head rhythmically while her muffled whimpers and slurpy sounds of suction filled the confessional booth until his body shivered under her wet touch. As he neared his finish, he did no longer hear the violent atmospheric conditions from outside, since the ones inside demanded all of his attention. Bucky grabbed on to her soft hair again, holding her head in place, and he thrusted up going deeper in her mouth until he spilled himself inside of her. “Ohhh, _fuck_. [Y/N], fuck.” He whispered through gritted teeth, and his gloved hand gripped the chair he was seated on so tightly his fingers splintered the wood. “ _Ahhhh_.” The little squeezes her tongue made when she swallowed him down gave him divine aftershocks as his orgasm washed over him, and it was the closest he’d been to heaven these last years. 

He could hear the rain teeming down again as he returned back to earth, and he immediately pulled [Y/N] up for a long and messy kiss, tasting her, tasting himself, and showing his appreciation for how she was able to make him feel. How she should have never made him feel, he sighed into her lips. Those soft and tender lips of hers, even now they made him weak at the knees. But that did not make any of this ok. As he tried to shake the residual feelings away, Bucky stood up, she mirrored his position, and he quickly secured himself behind the fabric of his pants. “We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have let you. I’m your priest.”

“But I—”

There was nothing to discuss. She must have known that too. “Only come out after me until I knock two times.” Bucky straightened himself when a boisterous rumble of thunder resonated across the booth and straight down to his core. He had fucked up. Bucky glided his hands through his hair, rapidly trying to fix the locks that had fallen in his face from the way she had made his whole body quiver under her touch. In the damn church. He was a disgrace to the cloth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many Hail Mary's, Father? _I'm going to burn in Hell._


	6. Their Crown of Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the revelation that came from [Y/N]'s previous confession, Father Barnes has even more to atone for.

** _Leviticus 5:13 “So the priest shall make atonement for him concerning his sin which he has committed from one of these, and it will be forgiven him; then the rest shall become the priest's, like the grain offering.”_ **

 

With a loud thud, Bucky closed the Bible and put the Book back on his desk. He could not look himself in the eye anymore. Just when he thought he had found a chance at redemption, he managed to fuck that shit up. He did not know how he looked the pastor priest in the eye after what had happened, but he knew he had to. The pastor priest had noticed his strange behavior and had become concerned about him. Bucky’s mind was distant and distracted, Father had said. Of course it was, but he could not tell him why. He did not dare to. He engaged in something unforgivable. He would tarnish the faith the pastor priest had in him. Bucky could not tell him, but God knew. God saw what a dishonorable man he was.

He was no priest. No priest would have done what he did. He had besmirched her good reputation by allowing her to commit such a sinful act on him. The words that had fallen from her tongue. The ease with which she just dropped to her knees in front of his body. The hunger that she held for him. The way that she drank from his cock until he had nothing left to give. _Fuck_. He was getting hard again. He paced around in his office. The torrid heat of the afternoon was festering in the church, and he needed room to breathe. He needed air. But the state his body was in now, going outside was not an option. He opened all the windows in his office, and leaned against one of the frames, hoping there would be a breeze to cool him down. Bucky’s hands clasped together, his thumbs forming a Cross. He had to do something. He was going to pray for forgiveness. _Again_.

 

——————————

 

[Y/N] cut a cucumber into thin slices, pausing every now and then to munch on a slice. In the kitchen, the music on the radio wafted through the air, and she heard a news reporter reporting news from the living room. Her father was probably watching the television, she surmised with a small smile. These were all lively sounds of comfort to her. Bobbing her head along to the beat, she grabbed a tomato and was about to slice and dice when the doorbell rang. 

“Father Barnes!” She opened the door. “What do you want?” Her tone was harsh, she knew that, but it was what he deserved. 

“[Y/N].” He nodded to her, and she made a mental picture of him. There were darkening circles underneath his eyes. He looked tired. She had not seen him for so long. This was a good refresher. “The parish priest asked if I could check up on your father. Is he home?” He came for her father. Was it wrong to say she felt disappointed? 

“He’s always home. Come in.” She leaned against the door, not offering him much space as he had to pass through the door and narrow hallway. Father Barnes waited, but she did not budge. He turned his body to the side, to create more space, but it also meant he faced her as he stepped inside awkwardly. The nearness of his body was thrilling, but she pushed the sensation away. He averted his gaze, and quickly walked further into her home. 

She guided Father Barnes to her dad, and the two spoke quietly. She gave them some time alone, in case her dad felt the need to confess. Confessing was good for the soul, they said. They preached it at church. [Y/N] wondered if Father Barnes still felt the same way about that. She could admit that… in a way, her last confession, it did relieve some of her burden, but then it also increased tenfold. She did not know what to do with herself or _how_ to feel about herself. She thought she would have felt more guilty, for corrupting a man like Father Barnes, but from the way he had touched her… There were depths to him she had not explored yet, darker parts that he was hiding from her, and she was so curious. 

Looking around the kitchen, [Y/N] decided to do the polite thing. She poured Father Barnes a glass of lemonade and brought it to him. Her mother would have her head for being this rude. “Here.” She shoved the glass in his hand. She did not have to be nice about it. 

Father Barnes accepted the glass, albeit a bit startled, sipped on it, and stepped away from her dad who was confined to a bed in the living room. “And how have you been holding up? We didn’t see you in church the last two weeks.” He looked back at her dad, and she rolled her eyes. Yes, he could still hear them. “Are you ok?” 

“Do you… _really_ need to ask that?”

“I just want to know you’re ok. I need to know.” His voice was soft, and she almost felt bad.

But then her father had a bout of coughing, and she quickly ran to his bed. “It’s ok, dad.” She soothed him through his fit, then grabbed his glass of water, resting on the bedside table, and offered it to him. “Here, dad. You need to drink.” Her dad lied back on the bed, and she let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll be right back, ok? Food’s almost ready.”

[Y/N] put the glass back down on the bedside table and walked past an anxious Father Barnes. “I’m preparing food for my dad, Father, so if you want to continue your line of questioning…” She entered the kitchen, and he looked back at her dad, nodded his head, and dragged his feet to the kitchen. 

“I kinda get the feeling you’re upset with me. I understand.” He closed the door to the small kitchen and placed the glass of lemonade on the counter. 

With her back turned towards him, she placed the different slices of vegetables together in one big bowl, “Do you? Why do you think I’m upset with you?”

She could sense that he came to a halt behind her, and she stopped her movements. What was he doing? His warm breath swept over her naked skin and she shivered. Realizing how easily both of their minds were immediately affected by the closeness, he stepped away again and lowered his voice. “You’re angry over what you’ve done, over what I’ve let you do. I was weak, I shou—”

She snorted, and faced him. Typical for a man, for a priest, to take the blame when it was she who stepped inside his booth. He eyed her questioningly, and she sighed. “No, Father, that’s not why I’m upset.” 

“Oh…, then why?”

“I’m upset with the way you brushed me off after… I did what I did. Like it meant nothing to you. Like I was nothing but a means to an end.” She lowered her voice too, “Just someone to get your cock wet.” 

“No! [Y/N], Forgive me. I would never!” He raised his voice in surprise, and she hushed him. “I never meant to make you feel that way.” He took a step towards her. “What you did was not nothing. It was…” He searched his words. “It was everything.” He gulped when the anger left her face. “But it was wrong.” 

“I know.” 

“And it mustn't be repeated.” 

She remained quiet. 

Father Barnes reached for her arm and he urged her, “Please tell me it won’t be repeated.” 

The touch burned, and instantly had dangerous ramifications between her thighs. “Father.” She closed her eyes, and she no longer felt his warmth on her arm. What were they doing? She sighed, and looked back at him. He seemed unhinged, and she slowly stepped towards him. 

“Please. [Y/N].” He moved backwards, his rear coming into contact with the kitchen counter, and just as he was about to step aside, further away from her, she placed her hand on the counter. 

There was barely any distance between them now, and every time his chest rose, it softly brushed against her body. The touch was intoxicating. Father Barnes made rational thinking very hard for her. That much was true. He glanced down at her arm, letting his concupiscent eyes glide up to her neck and then her face. She was witnessing his surrender. “Ok.” Was all [Y/N] said, and she opened the drawer he was standing next to, removed a spatula, and turned around to continue cooking her dad’s meal.

Turning on the heat of the stove, she heard him exhale a deep breath behind her. [Y/N] did not know why that satisfied her, but it did. She guessed it felt good to know she was not alone in this crippling affliction.

“I’ll see you at the Sunday service then? I wouldn’t want you to lose your way, because of me. I couldn’t forgive myself that.” His voice was deep, and his words came out slowly. 

She hummed a sound of assent, and he took his leave. His words made her think. He was exactly why she was losing her way… not that she ever really had found it. Years ago, she was on her way of finding it at college, but that was probably not what he meant.

She was tired of looking around for something in this small town, pondering what on earth she was doing, or who the hell she was going to be… after her dreams fell through. The only thing she had lived towards for so long was getting out of this hellhole, but now all she did was making sure she could take care of her ill father, and her mother too. She loved them. She really did. But she was stuck here, and the land was barren and dry with nothing in sight for miles to stimulate her tireless mind. It made her slow. It made her bored. It made her long for things she knew she should not have. And he was so different, he was pensive, he listened without judging. It aroused her mind. And other parts of her body. 

For so long she felt like her life was passing her by while she was standing still, slowly withering away, entrapped by the choices she had made for others and the pleasures she had given up. And now the fear of letting herself go took over, because those choices she made in the past might not have been the right ones. How was she supposed to trust herself now? How could _he_ even be a choice? How could he feel so good? She was certain she no longer was in her right mind. But she had to do something, she no longer wanted to be stagnant and confined, not even by her own choices.


	7. Carnal Inclinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Barnes and [Y/N] succumb to their feelings, and have to deal with the repercussions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pointless (?) and slightly ironic moral warning: This is fiction. Don't be like these two fuck-ups. Use protection.

** _Matthew 18:22 “Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not just seven times, but seventy-seven times!’”_ **

 

The glaring rays of the sun radiated through the stained glass windows of the church and onto the floor, spreading its sweltering warmth throughout the building and creating a mosaic of garish shades. The line towards the altar was quickly building, and [Y/N] wondered what the hell she was doing here. She did not want to be in this church, but now she came for three people instead of two, because he asked her to. Never for herself. When was she going to do things for herself? When would she be allowed that pleasure in life? 

Her mother stood up from the pew and pulled [Y/N] up with her. “Mother, stop it. I’m not accepting the Eucharist.” She really did not want to be face-to-face with Father Barnes. 

“[Y/N], you haven’t been to church. It has become noticeable to both our priests. You even said Father Barnes came to visit about it.” Her mother whispered as she almost tugged [Y/N] towards the line. 

“He came for dad.” [Y/N] exhaled loudly. The heat was getting to her. 

“You’ve been fasting.”

“I haven’t eaten or drank anything in the last couple of hours, because you’ve given me no other choice.” Her mother certainly was smart. She should have known her mother was up to no good when she _spontaneously_ decided to have breakfast together after the service. [Y/N] knew better. She knew that one had to fast in order to receive the Eucharist. Perhaps this was her own fault. 

“Come on, let’s go. I’m going to.”

“Mother, no!” [Y/N] whispered.

“Don’t make a scene.” Her mother pulled her into the line, and Father Barnes looked up at the commotion, along with other members of the church. Inquisitive faces with flapping fans all focused on her. So much for that. With a sigh, [Y/N] less than gracefully stepped into the line of people, readying themselves to receive the Eucharist. 

She wiped away the perspiration that was starting to appear on her forehead with a handkerchief. [Y/N] really did not appreciate her mother for this. How much shit was she going to have to take today? The closer she got towards the altar, towards him, the louder her heart started pounding. She was really starting to dislike how Father Barnes instantly had an impact on her, without even having to try. And he… he seemed focused on his task. Her fingers tapped on her hips as she tried to concentrate on anything else. Why did he seem so unaffected? It annoyed her. Her mother annoyed her. He annoyed her. When was she going to live for herself? 

It was almost her turn, and she blew out some air. It was damn hot. Her stomach was twisting and turning, and this was not how she wanted to feel. Coming back here after their shared time at the confession was weird enough. She gazed at his movements. His words came out tediously. The repeated movements Father Barnes made, it was so deliberate. It had to be. She could only imagine how… Oh, it was her turn. She stood before him and genuflected, lowering her body to show the Lord the respect He deserved. To show her piety. She felt like a pretender. She was one. She raised herself and looked him in the eyes. His moved down to her lips for only a second, but she noticed it. And it annoyed her. 

“The body of Christ.” Father Barnes said.

“Amen.” She replied, parted her lips and stuck out her tongue, so he’d know she wanted to receive the Eucharist directly into her mouth. Somehow they were in a similar situation again. His eyes lowered once more, and as he placed the wafer on her tongue, she straightaway accepted it by closing her mouth and letting her warm lips glide past the tip of his thumb, wetting him. That would show him.

His mouth fell open in shock, but he quickly regained his composure when she walked away, even if his darkened blue eyes told a different story. She could hear him clearing his throat apace, before he spoke to give the next member of the church their Eucharist, and she was pleased to know she was not the only one who was affected. 

_What the fuck was he supposed to do now?_ Bucky had tried everything within his reach. He had confessed his sins to God, he accepted that the cross he had to bear got heavier, was tainted. He knew that he was inappropriate, indecent, impure. He stayed away from her. Then when he had to, he even dared visiting her father to fulfill his duties. He asked her to return to the church, knowing in good faith that he could not bear it if she was lost to God, because of him. He avoided her gazes, even if he felt them, even if they awoke so much inside of him. He remained steadfast and strong. He really tried to do the right thing… but when her soft lips caressed him so, for only a second, it was enough to instantly erupt the prurient flames within him. Suddenly, trying seemed in vain. It was he, who was lost to God. 

 

——————————

 

After the service, [Y/N] and her mother went to the gathering so her mother could socialize with other members of the congregation while she was bored out of her mind, trying not to stare at the person she should not be staring at. At a certain point, a former classmate of hers tried to strike up a conversation with her, but she quickly evaded him by finding her mother, who had lots to tell her about the enlargement of Mr. Samuel’s automobile repair shop. It was thrilling. So mind-numbingly thrilling that she did not notice when Father Barnes approached them. 

“Mrs. [Y/L/N]. [Y/N].” Father Barnes said. 

“Father, today’s sermon was most enlightening. I have a couple of questions, if possible.”

“Of course. Sadly, I need to speak to [Y/N] first about some matters. For the school. Nothing to be worried about.” Father Barnes reassured her mother when she gave him a concerned look. [Y/N] raised her eyebrow in confusion, but was smart enough not to say anything. 

With a decent distance between them, he guided her away from the rest of the congregation, under the guise of having to discuss some of the activities she supposedly had signed up to organize for the next children’s gathering. What did he want? Was he going to reproach her for her earlier behavior? Her stomach tightened in suspense. Once they stepped inside his office, her questions were answered at once. Without saying anything, Father Barnes pushed her roughly against his door, banging the door shut, and immediately captured her lips. He enveloped her figure into his demanding and desperate arms, and ravished her mouth as soon as she opened up to him. 

“Lock your door, Father Barnes.” [Y/N] breathed out, still feeling dazed, when he broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead on hers, and looked at her with guilt in his eyes. 

Guilt or no guilt. He did not hesitate to follow her command and kiss her once more, “I’m so weak for you.” He caviled through the covetous brushes of their lips while his warm hand roamed over her body, caressing her hip, grasping her waist, massaging her breast.

She pulled him down harder on her lips, “I’ve waited so long for this, Father.” [Y/N] sighed when he pressed his body to hers, crushing her against the door, and she felt his erection beating against her belly. 

“Me too.” He held her ass, and hoisted her up around his tense waist. “ _Hmm_. I shouldn’t, but I’ve been dreaming about your lips.” He nibbled and sucked on them, and sauntered behind his desk with her in his arms. 

Throughout their kisses, the tension in his arms grew more detectable as he slowly sat [Y/N] down on the flat surface of the desk. A soft moan escaped her lips, and he breathed her in. Father Barnes moved aside some items on his desk with the side of his arm, then cupped her breasts while her hands slid down his firm chest, opening the buttons on his shirt from the bottom to the top. She was affronted when she discovered he was wearing an undershirt underneath. When she reached his clerical collar, he stopped her and gazed into her eyes quietly. Without the use of any words, he committed to her then and there: He unpinned and removed the clerical collar from his neck, placed it on the edge of the desk, and took off his glove, then his shirt and undershirt. 

[Y/N] smiled with satisfaction as she admired his naked body. What stood out to her immediately was where the silver of his prosthetic met the scarlet and beige of his raw skin, but she did not want to embarrass him so she focused on his chest. Touching. Kissing. Loving. It was so smooth, and her hand instantly moved to his hard pecs. They were slightly rounded, and the palm of her hands fitted perfectly over them, like they were made to be touched by her hands only. His nipples were already affected, like other parts of his body, and she leaned forward to taste him. He was slightly salty, but so warm. Father Barnes hummed softly. She flicked her tongue over his soft skin, and he brushed the back of her head. Lowering her lips, she traced the outline of the intersection of his abdominal muscles with the tip of her tongue down to his navel where she flattened her tongue, and he sucked in his breath. Then she placed kisses down the fuzzy trail of hair until she reached the belt. 

“Your turn.” Father Barnes’ hold tightened around her hair and he pulled back her head, his eyes lowering to her body. “ Another thing I shouldn’t be dreaming about...” Father Barnes said while his hands glided down to the hem of her dress, and he began pulling it up over her hips, over her breasts, over her head. When he casted a silent glance down her body, the nerves settled back into the pit of her stomach. 

“Well?” She chewed on her lip, and averted her gaze.

“Stop that.” Father Barnes bent down, his hands on the sides of her legs, and he devotedly sucked on her bottom lip for her. [Y/N] gasped. “It drives me crazy when you do that.” His fingers trailed over her waist, she squirmed at the ticklish sensation, and he pushed his tongue inside of her mouth again. “You’re stunning. Exactly how I envisioned you.” 

She beamed, “You’re very imaginative then.”

“That, and I’ve got too much time on my hands.” Father Barnes laughed into her lips, and her heart fluttered. She was not used to this attitude, normally he was either solemn or all doom and gloom. She was not about to question it, though. 

His warm mouth lowered to her jaw, then disappeared in her neck, placing sloppy kisses from the side of the nape of her neck then down to her shoulder, discovering all her sensitive spots that made her breathing heavier and her hold on him tighter. Suddenly he looked at her again, his face serious and stern while his fingers lingered on her bra straps, softly hooking underneath them. 

“You’re not nothing to me, [Y/N].”

She chuckled in confusion, “What are you talking about?” She could not keep up with his emotions. 

“The thing you were angry about when I came to see you. You’re not a means to an end. I wouldn’t know what end. Mine, maybe?” 

The incertitude left her face and she relaxed when he admitted that. It was good to hear him say those words. She did not want to be the only active participant in this disaster.

“Yeah, I think that’s it. You end me.” He nodded to himself in confirmation. 

“Oh, Father.” Her nails grazed over his chest quickly, and he sucked in his breath, as she connected their lips again. Father Barnes pulled down her straps and quickly unclasped her bra, removing it from her body and dropping it to the floor. His prosthetic hand left a cold trail behind on her skin that prickled and somehow burned. He broke their kiss and his head lowered again, this time to her breasts. He took them in his mouth one by one, slowly suckling on them and nipping when she let him know the flick of his tongue felt particularly good. Her hands rested on the desk behind her, and she leaned back, trying to cherish the way he was building her up. 

Taking his time, his hand slowly slid down her figure to the soft curve of her hip where he rested it while his mouth incited a string of fiery kisses in its wake, down to what was awaiting him between her legs. After he spread her legs, she could feel his hot breath on her folds when he skimmed over them with his lips. Instinctively she bucked her hips towards him, and he took that as a sign to remove her underwear. 

“Good God.” He whispered to himself when she opened herself for him once more, and revealed what she was sure was a profusion of the extraneous proof of her arousal. She had been wet for him for months now. Father Barnes gazed quietly at her wetness, then plopped down on his chair behind the desk, and instantly locked his lips with her folds, kissing her like he had done moments before on her mouth. 

“ _Ahhh_ …” She threw her head back in pleasure when she felt the warmth of his tongue slithering between her folds. The sensation almost made her lose her balance, so she leaned back on her elbows, and eventually, his hot kisses became so passionate, she had to rest her back on the surface completely, and let him have his way with her. 

Father Barnes studiously stared at the different expressions that graced her face, and once she noticed his captivating gaze, she bit her bottom lip just for him. He grumbled, and the sound vibrated against her skin. In response she rolled her hips, needing to feel more. When the bottom of his face was completely slick, coated with her moisture, and he easily shifted up and down, from left to right, she felt his jaw relax. Father Barnes took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and licked her from her entrance to her clit with a soft tongue. It made her shudder as a feverish benediction took hold of her. He repeated the motion until she became desperate for more, so she weaved her fingers through his hair and positioned his mouth right on her nub. He took the hint, and hooked his cold arm around her leg, his hand parting her folds and his flat tongue lapping steadily over her clit with long licks while his warm hand roamed over her body up to her breast where he squeezed. It did not take much longer then, and with each needy moan that escaped from her lips, he gently quickened his pace until she was a trembling mess.

“Ahhhh, _oh_ , Father.” Her hips bucked up again, but his arm anchored her to the desk. Needing some release, she let go of his hair and her hand fisted then flailed towards the side of the desk where she unknowingly hit the clerical collar, and it fell to the floor. Moaning faster, her eyes rolled back, and she lost control of her legs as hot ripples of pleasure surged from her groin to the pit of her stomach. 

Panting loudly while she tried to come down her high, she glanced at his besmeared face and his heaving chest with half-lidded eyes. “Seemed like you knew what you were doing, Father.” 

He leaned back in his chair briefly and nodded, “I wasn't always a priest.” She let the silence hang in the air again; how was she supposed to respond now? After they did what they did? But then he did the talking for her. Father Barnes stood up suddenly, and she lifted her body and rested on her arms once more. He was unbuckling his pants, and another painful need rushed through her. The need to be filled. She was ready for all of him. So ready. As he stepped out of his pants and underwear, he grazed his nails over her inner thigh. “I, uhh, I don’t have a condom.”

“It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure? What about—”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him prone on her, “I really need to feel you inside of me.” 

“Ok.” His voice was smothered when they pressed their lips together, and he steered his cock up and down her folds, making him choke on his breath. “So soft.” He muttered, and gulped painfully when he pushed against her entrance and dipped inside. “ _Jesus_ , I can’t believe this.” He dipped in further, slowly sinking deeper and his jaw strained against one another. [Y/N] moved her hips along while she pushed him further inside of her with the back of her feet sprawled on his ass. He whimpered when his hip bones hit the softness of her inner thighs, and she let out a satisfied moan. “God, I need a second.” His eyes were closed as he hovered on top of her, and he was mumbling something to himself; if it weren’t for the situation they were in, she might have said that it almost looked like he was praying. 

The moment allowed [Y/N] to adjust to his girth, and she softly squeezed her muscles together and he whimpered once more, now looking her in the eyes again. The kind of control she had over him… it… well, it was doing things to her. “God, fuck. Your hold on my cock is so… _hmmm_.” He pushed himself off of his desk, stood straight and grabbed her hips, eventually bringing their bodies in motion, slipping in and out of her. 

Bucky really needed that moment. The second he felt her heat engulf all around his cock was when he was finally able to shut out all the fear, anxiety, and doubt that had continuously plagued his mind ever since his memories had started coming back to him. Painful memories. His hands slithered to her knees, and he lifted her legs up in the air. He wanted to feel more of her. He rested her legs against his chest, allowing himself to be sucked in tighter inside of her and chase that serene self-transcendence. 

“Ah. Ah. _Hmmyeah_.” He heard [Y/N] try to whisper while she held onto the edge of the desk to steady herself. Her softly spoken moans wafted through the air and were broken by soft gasps each time he plunged inside her harder. 

It was becoming more difficult for him to keep his groans quiet too as he alternated between fast thrusts and slow rolls. “ _Hmm_.” He breathed through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me, ahhh, Father, h-how does it feel?” As she asked that torturous question, she dropped her legs to the side, lifted herself up and draped her arms around his neck. She pulled him against her lips, both their tongues trying to taste more. “Tell me it, ahhh, d-doesn’t feel right? I, _ahh_ , need to hear you say ittt.”

“Ahhhh, [Y/N]. Please.” He slowed down his thrusts, sliding in and out of her smoothly, and tried to focus on her voice, so he would not come on the spot like that.

“Say it, Father.” She demanded again and tightened her hold on him.

“God, help me.” He cried out while he pulled out of her a little. “ _Ohhh_. You feel so right.” Bucky pushed in even deeper. “You feel _sooo_ good it’s hurting me.” 

“Then, ahh, let go. G-Give yourself to me. I’ll take, ahh, _ahh_ -away the pain.” The moment she panted out those words, he spun her around on the desk, and bent her over, pushing her belly flat on the surface. She gasped at his sudden change in behavior. 

“You will?” Bucky emitted a low and guttural sound, and lapped his fingers over her sweet, wet folds. He wriggled his fingers between them, and she sighed at the touch. Flattening her head on the desk, she looked at him and nodded her response. She was so compliant, even when she wasn’t. He retracted his fingers from her lips, and caressed her butt cheek gently with the palm of his hand, lathering it with her moisture, before he applied a quick and sharp blow. [Y/N] gasped out and moaned, and he soothed her ass with the soft graze of his nails. The way her body shook, the way her mouth fell open, the way that his imprint remained on her ass… The visible influence he had on her drove him closer to his edge. She was weak for him too. 

“Oh my God…” Her voice faltered.

Still soothing her, he choked out: “Are you taking my pain?”

She whimpered a yes. 

“Can you take more?”

Another yes. 

His hand caressed her other cheek, and he repeated the motion. A loud smack accompanied by another raspy moan resonated through his somber office, and it made his cock twitch in need. “Thank you.” Both his hands curved over her ass to the small of her back as he positioned himself directly behind her, then took hold of himself, and swiftly pushed inward, letting his hipbones bounce against her sore cheeks promptly. 

Her hand disappeared underneath her legs, and her sticky body glided irregularly over the surface. They both subdued their moans and groans as much as possible when he set up a desperate pace, taking himself out of her completely only to delve into her harder, and let his hips roll against her figure, so he could dig even further into her. 

For a moment, he stilled his body when he was buried irrevocably deep inside of her, and let himself be submerged in the soothing warmth that she provided him with. It was the kind of warmth he had been longing for, the kind of warmth he did not realize he needed. Something this small town could not provide, this parish could not achieve. When she began to wiggle her hips, he stilled her body too, and glanced down at how his nails turned her skin red. “You’re so soft and sweet.” He murmured with a fulfilled sigh; she moved underneath him again, and he let her. 

He began to roll his hips against her ass once more, still buried deep, and tried to experience and explore every mystery her depths offered him. If he was going to sin, he would damn well make sure it was worth it. He built a steady pace again, rutting in and out. And she was worth it. His thrusts sped up once more, quickly turning frantic. Oh, she was so fucking worth it. It only took him a few minutes, when he felt her contracting around his cock, to spill all of himself inside of her. His legs tensed, and his shoulders heaved as he panted through his orgasm while she squirmed underneath him with little moans of pleasure. And in that moment, she was his idea of Heaven. 

 

——————————

 

There was a soft knock on his door. Bucky looked up from his desk, the one he had been sitting behind for hours, thinking back to what had happened days before and what that meant, and walked to his door. Opening it, he saw it was [Y/N]. Their eyes connected and he could feel his need growing once more. She had that effect on him. She made him so weak. It was sinful…and yet… He allowed her to enter, and when he closed his door, her thoughts came spewing out. There was much she needed to say. And he listened, like he always did. 

From the moment their eyes had connected for the first time, it was like she had somehow entered his body and taken over his mind. Every impression he ever had of this place was stained by visions of the beating pulse in her neck, the softness of her lips, and the fervor in her eyes. How could it be that he set out to disappear from the world, then found himself in the fortuitous position to be welcomed into God’s arms in this little parish by such a benevolent parish priest, only to discover it was not God’s love he needed to heal… but hers. How come he never felt more alive, more human, than when their bodies merged and he was embedded in her heat, and he could no longer distinguish where he began and she ended?

She was always the one who started things; he knew this. She was bold enough to start things they both knew would disgrace her, yet she did them anyways. Somehow, seeing her boldness, her courage, he was able to find his own… and it meant it was time. He had to stop running. She dared to start things; he would dare to stop running away, and face what he needed to head-on. He was going to figure his shit out. He had that power. 

[Y/N] continued her thoughts, “I didn't know how much it was _this_ that I needed until you came along and you looked at me the way you looked at me. And when you gave yourself to me, knowing what it costed you, I can't even tell you I'm sorry, because it unleashed this hunger in me that I didn't know I had. Not just for you, but for me too. And somehow… it made everything seem ok?” 

Her words seemed to affect Father Barnes, and after a long sigh he finally managed to speak again. “We can't keep doing this.”

“I know.” She nodded her head. 

“It’s taking every ounce of strength that I have not to kiss you right now.” His piercing blue eyes lowered to her lips when he said that. 

She smiled, “I understand.”

They remained quiet. 

“I will have to leave. I can't stay here. You make me a weak man… when you are worthy of better. And I can’t keep lying to the parish priest. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” 

“I've nothing to forgive, Father. You've done me no wrong.” She told him instantly. Father Barnes was quiet again, maybe at a loss for words. She was certain they both knew that they could never go back to what they shared, so forbidden, so shamelessly, within the church doors. They would have to put a stop to it. He was a priest. She was no devout. It would never work out. There was no happy ending here, not like those she read about in the books or saw in the movies. She knew this. Just because he made her feel good, made her feel _something_ , didn't mean it was right. “If anything, this whole… experience taught me that... I can't and don't want to do what is expected of me anymore. Some of the expectations people have, my parents have, are screwed up. And I deserve better. I deserve to sometimes choose me, don't I? I hurt less like that. I shouldn't always have to hurt, Father?”

“Call me Bucky, please. I no longer have a right to that clerical title. And no... No, you don't deserve to hurt. Ever.” 

“Thank you.” 

“What about your dad?” 

“I’ll figure it out. I can still take care of him and not be stuck in this town. I realize now it's no longer all or nothing. There are gray areas. I can be happy _and_ take care of my father.”

“Are you gonna make sure you take care of yourself too? Your wants and needs?” 

“Oh, I've been doing that.” They smiled knowingly at one another, allowing the silence to take over once more for a moment. 

“And do you regret any of it?” 

“Not a bit.” 

He rested his head on hers and let out a relieved sigh, “Good.” 

“I’ll miss you.” Her voice came out softer than she intended to. Knowing something was not right and letting go of it… It was not an easy thing. 

He looked deeply into her eyes, like he was making a mental picture of them. “I won’t forget you.” 

She nodded in agreement, “Wherever you go, I hope you give ‘em hell... Bucky.”

Bucky chuckled at her carefully chosen words, pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, and raised her face to allow their lips to brush together in synchronization one final time. A slow and deep kiss to remember her by. 

Later that day, Bucky waited at the only bus stop that would take him away from this small town. Silently seated on the bench, he could not help but reevaluate his life. It had been all he had been doing ever since he laid his eyes on her. Even before that, really. All those endless conversations with God, what did they bring him? Pain, self-loathing, confusion. He had enough of that already. God, this wasn't working anymore. When was he going to find salvation? He let his head fall down in his hands. Bucky had to live with what he had done. He would somehow have to accept the choices he made, and even the choices that were made for him. It was all a part of him now. 

When the bus arrived at the stop, Bucky picked up his duffel bag and stepped inside the bus. He'd been on the run long enough, and even in the sanctity of the parish, he was still unable to allow God to minister his life, to fully commit to Him, like he should have. He was just running away from his past, from the memories of his old Brooklyn life, and all the hardship that followed after. The emphasis lied on old and hard. It was decades ago, and it was a tough pill to swallow. He needed time to adjust to everything... he had done and was done to him. All the misery he caused. Bucky stared out of the window seat after he sat down in the back of the bus. There was no one around, and the land was covered with bland brown tones, but this small town had offered him what he thought he was looking for. The parish offered it. His failed efforts with God offered it too. But Bucky... he couldn't change back to who he was. He wasn't that guy from the 1940’s anymore. The war changed him. Then HYDRA changed him some more. The engine of the bus roared and spurred it into motion, and at full tilt the small town vanished from his vision. It was time he learned to look himself in the eye... without relying on God. The only person Bucky needed to have faith in was himself, like the parish priest did. Like [Y/N] did. It had been her gift, in the end. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, please feel free to tell me _why_!  
>  God knows, I love reading your kind and considerate thoughts.  
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